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“So you never have then Juddsy?” Arthur’s grin is a sick steak knife crescent moon all white and terrible. Judd can’t tear his eyes away and even when his fingers go weak, trembling as they are, he is still enthralled. Silly weak boy is what his brother might have called him: another pretty young thing under Arthur’s spell. Oh but he wouldn’t have said pretty young thing would he? He’d have used some other word, some troglodyte language to call what was the pure longing in Judd’s mouth making his tongue dry just at the sight of Arthur.

“No,” he says soft-like, “I have never pleasured myself. I simply don’t see the point in doing so Artie. It isn’t-“

“Gentlemenly?” Arthur shoves Judd’s shoulder back rough, angry though he has schooled his features into a mock of comradery. As if Judd had ever believed the lie of friendship in the way Arthur treated him. Judd’s chair skids back; Arthur had barged in on him trying to finish a report in his desk chair bent over the typewriter humming to himself. Often times Arthur would let Judd believe himself to be alone in such moments like a cat watching a mouse skitter around a kitchen table, “Would you call our little actions at the frat house gentlemanly then? More respectable to steal and almost run a man over than to touch yourself is it Judd?”

“Artie,” Judd gives him a tight look, “I don’t care what you do with your free time but I prefer intellectual stimuli not bodily perversions.”

He turns back to the desk, hand hovering above the keys when Arthur’s arms come sliding around his neck. Hot breath is brushing the tip of his left ear and oh. Arthur’s hand has come to the front of his body with his tapered fingers toying with the buttons on Judd’s vest.

“And what if,” he huffs once and then pops the first button, “What if I ordered you to touch yourself Juddsy?”

Something awful crawls up the vertebra of Judd’s spine. It is a cool feeling, slick and slipping into his heart to clutch around it. He can feel Arthur smiling against his cheek.

“Are you ordering me to?” he asks, voice falling when Arthur gets to the second button. His linen shirt is too thin and he can feel the heat of Arthur’s fingers through the fabric, “You, you should have phrased such a request better.”

“Oh forgive me,” Arthur moves back and takes Judd’s vest with him. There is no protest from Judd, who moves his arms to help rid himself of the garment. Now Arthur stands behind him, holding his vest bunched in his hands, “Please. Turn around for me Juddsy.”

He does so, slow in moving his chair to face Arthur. Arthur is leant against his wardrobe with arms crossed. His eyes are so sharp that Judd feels pricked by them only through being the subject of their gaze. For a brief moment he ponders the blood that might come from him were Arthur to truly hurt him and god. How he would be fine with such bestial proclivities if only it were Arthur doing them. Only Arthur’s body creating such storms beneath Judd’s skin.

“Now unbutton your trousers,” Arthur laughs as Judd nearly jumps at the command, “Your cock must be gathering dust the way you’ve been ignoring it.”

“Please,” Judd’s hand stills above his opened fly. His hope that Arthur might not notice that he’d gotten hard from only the orders he’d been given thus far goes dead as the other boy sidles up to him. His face is all glee and untamable cruelty. It makes the something from before go straight up Judd’s spine once more, “Artie I –“

“Take out your cock Judd,” Arthur’s voice is firm, “There’s a good boy.”

A sound escapes Judd: one that sounds like a wounded animal. A sound that begs for more cruelty but also the gentleness of Arthur’s hand against his cheek as he maneuvers his penis out of his briefs. The first stroke is difficult with his dry hand and he must make a face to reflect the fact because Arthur takes hold of his wrist.

“Oh that was my mistake,” he says and, without warning, presses a kiss to Judd’s cheek, “Lick your palm. That’s it princess. Now take hold of your cock, give it a good tug.”

The next stroke is easier with the bare slick of his own spit there to make the drag less painful. Arthur is watching him over his shoulder, breath warm and coming out in huffs that Judd can feel on the sensitive skin of his neck, his ear. Small moans break out of his mouth like robbers, thieves stealing the breath out his lips. Despite how the feelings cloud over his mind Judd is still ever present, still clicking away and making sure he is not giving himself away. Oh if Arthur never asks, never orders, he simply won’t have to tell.

“Does that feel better then Judd?” Arthur asks and then when the only answer is the quiet intake of Judd’s breath he snaps, “Answer me.”

“It does,” Judd breathes out and he shuts his eyes because the feeling is lovely. He can feel Arthur watching him and it is a thrill to show Arthur. Please him the way his orders have pleased Judd in the way they curl around his body making it a tool for Arthur’s brilliant plans. This might be his most bright, most fulfilling, “It feels good Artie. Feels so good.”

“Good,” Arthur’s hand wraps around Judd’s, pulling his startled rhythm into a faster pace, “Good. I wouldn’t want my Juddsy to feel poorly.”

“Oh,” Judd’s head knocks back, caught by the firmness of Arthur’s shoulder, “You, you’re touching me.”

“So observant,” Arthur crows as he rubs his thumb over the tip of Judd’s penis, “Look at you. What a nice cock you have here Judd. You should be giving this to half the girls in town. But you aren’t, are you?”

Judd shakes his head and has his chin caught by Arthur’s other hand. His grip is tight and a jolt of heat strikes in Judd’s belly.

“You will answer me out loud,” Arthur says and in response Judd chokes out, “No, no I’m not giving it to anyone Artie.”

“Of course you aren’t,” and now Arthur takes his hand away, leaving Judd with only his own fingers which stutter at the loss, “You would never, would you Juddsy? You’re saving that cock for me.”

“Yes,” Judd hums and then yelps as Arthur grabs his wrist to pinion it behind his back. His penis is standing up now, wet and nearly at its peak. He can feel his orgasm hot between his legs but it pounds mercilessly behind his eyes as well, at the point where Arthur is kissing the nape of his neck. It is as if his whole body is a bright spot waiting to implode at Arthur’s command, “It’s all for you Artie.”

“Tell you what Judd,” Arthur is speaking right into his ear now, “You call me Daddy and I’ll let you come.”

A sound drags itself through Judd’s clenched teeth. Oh he’s been cut now; now Arthur has sliced open his stomach and found the darkness in his innards. Such a simple request with a reward worth the agony but then. But then he will never take the word back. It will live in his mouth forever and it will live in Arthur’s eyes when he speaks, when he does anything.

Arthur leans over and blows softly on the tip of Judd’s penis.

“Ah,” Judd bites his lower lip and struggles against the hands holding his back, “Artie please just let me come.”

“I tell you what Judd. I’ll make this easy for you,” Arthur moves Judd’s hand and, with his own hand covering it, wraps their fingers around Judd’s cock. He sets up a slow rhythm, one that keeps Judd’s orgasm just biting at the edges, “I’ll make it an order. Would that suit you better?”

“Artie.”

“Answer me in full sentences Juddsy.”

“Yes,” his cheeks blushing hotly Judd squeezes his eyes shut, “Yes, okay Artie.”

“Good,” Arthur stops his movement, “Now. Call me Daddy.”

“I,” Judd stutters as Arthur moves again, twisting hard so the words are yanked out, “Yes Daddy.”

“There’s a good Juddsy,” Arthur says and then begins moving faster, quickening his pace so Judd blinks and he’s coming all over their hands. His eyes fly open, taking in the sight of his and Arthur’s fingers joined together on his softening penis, “Now. You’ve had your fun. Thank me.”

“Thank you,” and Arthur taps the tip of his cock, reminding him, “Yes. Sorry. Thank you Daddy.”

“Anything for you,” Arthur kisses him on the cheek. The feeling of his lips does little abate the sickening feeling of the mess he’s made of his trousers. Stiffly, Judd sits up with hands freed by Arthur. He gets up from the chair to make his way to the wardrobe. Should he get a towel, perhaps, to wipe his hands off? Changing his pants should come first, right? Questions are easy to bring up instead of the pressing matter of Arthur’s rubbing the front of his own trousers. Judd takes out a clean pair of black pants and sets them aside to take off the ones he’s gotten semen on. He tucks himself back into his briefs careful not to touch to long on the oversensitive skin.

“Judd,” Arthur calls to him from where he’s leant against the desk, “You can’t seriously be changing so immediately.”

“We don’t need to dwell on this Artie,” Judd shakes the pants out of their folded state, “It’s only a reaction of the body. Such things have no part in our intellectual pursuits.”

“Judd,” Arthur says and his voice has fallen into the same thrilled boyish tone it gets when he’s giving an order, “Come here.”

Judd, of course, thinks of disobeying. Of slipping into his trousers and leaving the room to wash himself of the whole affair. Such would be the logical thing to do. He turns around, head down, and returns to Arthur. Arthur puts his arm around Judd’s waist, pulling him closer so that he can feel the hardness of Arthur’s cock on his own flaccid one.

“Judd, darling,” and now he’s being cruel, truly cruel, catching Judd’s chin between his thumb and forefinger to call him pet names. To be treated in such a manner grates at the academic still beating his fist against Judd’s skull but his lizard brain makes his mouth go dry at the caressing touch of Arthur’s hand at the base of his back.

“Come now,” Arthur says and his mouth is full of evil, the evil of the whole world trapped in a rich boy’s smile, “There’s so much more I’ve got to ask of you.”